Scarecrow soared over the desert, letting out a loud laugh. Flight was one of the few experiences he enjoyed nowadays. His new mount was working out perfectly, and he'd find Sabin in a fraction of the time this way. He only wished that he could prolong the experience. Flight was truly a grand experience! Too bad there isn't... At the thought, Scarecrow became morose. His career, his agents... it all seemed so pointless, without... But I can't quit now. This is my only option. Scarecrow sighed, looking down at the empty desert... Well, not quite empty. Sabin was trekking through the desert, just below. Finally... Scarecrow swooped in, preparing for his meeting with Sabin. ********************** Sabin looked up. He was sure he had seen SOMEthing. What could it be? He didn't have time to consider very long. Two Nomads leaped over the top of a nearby dune, drawing their curved swords. The Nomads had always been peaceful, but recently... they had begun attacking random travellers, ever since Kefka was killed. No, ever since... Edgar. That had to be part of it, somehow. First Edgar was acting strangely, and now... Sabin broke off his train of thought as the two Nomads rushed him. He leaped backwards, just out of reach of their swords. Then he went into a spin, mustering all his energy for an Air Blade. The air swirled around him, caught him in his spin. Sabin was one with the air, part of the air... now! He unleashed the energy in a massive flurry of wind, wind that bit deep into the Nomads. They struggled against it, managing to remain standing even in the full force of the gust. Sabin blinked. He had had no idea that the Nomads were strong enough to stand up to that much force. He prepared for another attack. Meanwhile, one of the Nomads touched the other on the shoulder, the first sign of communication Sabin had yet seen the Nomads use. In surprise, he lost concentration for a moment, breaking out of his Blitz. The second Nomad ran off into the desert, leaving only the one... Moving with a speed that rivaled Sabin's own, the Nomad leaped at Sabin, coming down in a wicked arc with his sword. Sabin caught it with his claws, but the force of the Nomad's leap knocked sent him sprawling. The next thing he knew the Nomad was above him, trying to force that curved sword past Sabin's defenses, and into the heart. Sabin struggled, stopping the blade only inches from his chest. The Nomad was too close, have to get... "AWAY!" he shouted, calling on adrenaline reserves to add to his strength. The Nomad was flung back, the curved sword slipping out of reach. Sabin got to his feet at the same moment the Nomad did. He forced himself to concentrate, ignoring the fact that the Nomad was beginning a leap toward him... Sabin moved abruptly, shooting toward the approaching Nomad. Fists and feet went into a flurry of motion, slamming into the Nomad again and again, as Sabin pivoted around the still-leaping Nomad. A second later, it was over. A Bum Rush to make Duncan proud, thought Sabin. He walked up to the battered form of the Nomad. The Nomad was clothed in the desert browns that all the Nomads wore... except... The dusty veil had fallen away from the Nomad's face, revealing the face of a very young woman. Sabin frowned. He never liked it when women got caught up in things like this. /I wish it could have been different,/ he thought, staring down at the wrecked body. A deep, throaty laugh resounded across the desert, and Sabin looked up. Who the...? There was a black-cloaked figure standing at the top of a nearby dune. It had no weapons drawn, but something told Sabin this was not someone who even needed them. "Well met, Prince Sabin." The deep voice echoed across the desert, seeming to come from all directions at once. "Who are you?" Sabin shouted. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Scarecrow. Perhaps you have heard of me. No matter. I am a professional bounty hunter." "I suppose that means this was no chance meeting. I won't be going in easily." Sabin raised his claws, preparing for a fight. Scarecrow laughed. "If I had wanted you dead, you would be dead already. Your meager powers are nothing to me, and you would not even have seen me in time to use them." Sabin kept his claws up, just in case. "Then what do you want?" Scarecrow drew a small parchment from inside his cloak. "This is a job offer. The offer has been made to pay me two hundred thousand for your untimely demise. However, I have not yet accepted the mission, as I don't really feel like killing you." Sabin raised one eyebrow. There had to be a catch. "I suppose you are wondering: what's the catch? Well, I still have to make a living, and if I don't get my money one way... Anyway, if you can come up with two hundred thousand, I will agree to ignore this job offer completely. Otherwise... well, I'm sure the prince of Figaro can come up with that much money." Scarecrow frowned. He did have enough to cover for that, but... "How do I know you won't kill me anyway? And why should I pay you anything? I could take you on." Actually, Sabin was unsure, but it would be a mistake to give in too easily. "First, all good bounty hunters have a code of honor. Otherwise, their employers can never know that they won't just take the money and run, or some such. I happen to be a good bounty hunter. When I give you my word, be assured that I will keep it. Also, if I killed you, I could simply take your money. Why would I want to bargain now? "Second, it would be a... mistake to think you could defeat me. As a bounty hunter, one-on-one combat is my specialty. I am strong enough even to survive your fabled Bum Rush... and strong enough to throw them myself." As a demonstration, Scarecrow raised his hands, firing an Aurabolt just over Sabin's head. Sabin blinked. Who had taught...? No matter. He reached into his pouch. Yes, he had just enough to cover this bill. "All right, I believe you. Now, if I give you the money, will you tell me why you aren't just going to kill me?" Scarecrow paused. "Very well." He reached out one hand, deftly catching the heavy purse Sabin tossed him. He pocketed it before speaking. "There is someone else who's been looking for you." Sabin rolled his eyes. All of a sudden, everyone seemed to want him dead. "An old friend of yours, I believe," Scarecrow continued. "He has offered fifty thousand for each one of you I can find." "Each one of who?" Sabin asked. Scarecrow went on, ignoring the question. "He was at South Figaro a short time ago, but I believe you will find him in Maranda now. In case you hadn't heard, undead legions of your brother are approaching Maranda." Sabin blinked. Undead legions... Edgar? Was the whole world going insane? "I believe your friend's name is... Banon."